Mister Darling's Dreams
by NephilimEQ
Summary: Hook was not a character in a story created by Wendy...but he just might be the one to be her match. PLEASE READ & REVIEW! Love you!
1. Chapter 1

**Mr. Darling's Dreams**

* * *

**Chapter 1**

George Darling stared out the window at the snow that had just started to fall, and he felt his heart freeze with every drop that graced the ground.

Another year had passed and he was no closer to any of his dreams than he had been the year before. They lay beyond his reach, and the drawer in which they lay now seemed to be impossible to open…in fact, he had probably lost the key to it.

He sighed as he pulled himself together and turned away from the window and back towards his work.

But his mind was pulled away yet again, and he found himself looking towards one of the actual drawers in his desk. The truth was, his dreams literally _were_ in a drawer.

He hesitantly reached a hand towards the handle…and then slowly pulled it open.

There, looking completely innocent and plain, were his dreams on over one-hundred and twenty pages of paper in a painstakingly tiny print, carefully written with a sure and steady hand. On all the pages were scenes that brought forth vivid imagery, stories that he had started telling Wendy when she was just three years old.

He wondered if she realized that her stories of Hook had started because of the stories that he'd told her.

George had created that particular character while at university. James Hook had been everything that he sometimes wanted to be…but with a bit of an evil side to him.

He was one of his greatest creations, and he was secretly thrilled at the fact that Wendy had like the character so much that she'd continued to make stories about him.

He had so many stories about the character of Hook that he'd never had the chance to tell Wendy all of them. Mr. Darling longed to turn back time, simply so that he could have the chance to tuck her into bed at night and tell her yet another story, something that he dearly missed.

His fingers barely touched the pages, but a faint tingle at the tips of his fingers reminded him of the powerful impact that those words had on his children.

Especially on Wendy.

He had written the stories mainly about James Hook, the fierce captain of the ship the Jolly Roger, but as a young girl she had latched onto Peter Pan, a minor character he had created, as her favorite, and he let her.

She had created countless stories about Pan and his adventures, including stories that had his infamous Captain Hook. Sometimes, at night, just before the children went to bed, he would listen on the other side of the door as Wendy regaled both Michael and John with her stories, and as he listened he secretly hoped that she _would_ become a writer someday. She had a wonderfully imaginative mind and captured her younger brothers' attention so easily with her passionate words; he knew she would be great at it.

However, ever since the night that she and her brothers had disappeared and then returned, her stories, Mr. Darling had noticed, had taken a different turn. She focused less on Peter, and more on the illustrious Captain. He was no longer a purely evil villain, but a man of good taste and manners when need called for it, but with a fierce temper and uncontrollable passion for life.

That was why, according to his daughter, Captain Hook resented Peter so much. Peter had taken his hand from him, partially dulling one of his five senses.

He could no longer feel with his right hand, no longer touch, no longer hold onto anything.

He could never hold onto the wheel of his ship with two firm hands grasped tightly to the worn wood; instead he had but one hand and a hook, a poor substitute.

Sometimes he would notice a slight inflection in her tone as she would describe the man. In fact, one night in particular, only a few nights ago, stood out in his mind.

She was seventeen, and Michael and John were twelve and fourteen, respectively. They were still at an age where they could enjoy her stories, and she still told them, never growing tired of entertaining them, even though they now shared a separate room from her. The three of them would gather in her room, once the nursery, and she would sit at the window and tell them her stories.

But back to the story in question that Mr. Darling had heard.

He remembered her voice taking on a softer tone as she spoke…

"_Now, today was a different day for Captain Jas. Hook, and not like any other day in Neverland. For everyone else, the sun continued to shine, the birds continued to sing, and they continued to stomp about the island, no one ever quite catching up with the other…but the captain was alone in his room on the Jolly Roger, his heart low in his chest."_

"_But why?" asked Michael, and Wendy quickly explained._

"_Because, Michael, today was his birthday…and no one, not even his trusted first mate, Smee, had remembered it."_

_At hearing this, John spoke up._

"_But if he doesn't get any older, like Peter, then why would it matter if it was his birthday or not?"_

_At that point, curious, Mr. Darling opened the door just enough so that he could peek in without being noticed and saw Wendy sigh and look out the window at hearing her younger brother's innocent enough sounding question._

_Finally, she said, "Well…think about it. Even if you don't get any older, one should always have at least one day a year to celebrate the fact that they _were_ born, shouldn't they?" She turned her eyes on both of her brothers who sat on the floor in front of her._

"_You see, you two, Captain Hook, though still a dreaded pirate and fierce warrior, is also a man. A man who wants nothing more than to be recognized as still being good from time to time."_

_She gave the both of them a stern look._

"_How would you feel if no one ever paid any other attention to you than to notice that you were frightening to them?"_

_At that, both of the boys' eyes dropped to the floor, and Wendy continued her story._

"_So, knowing that it was his birthday, the Captain decided to do something that he hadn't done in a _very_ long time." She paused for dramatic effect, the silence in the air charged with anticipation of what she was going to say next. "He decided to go into town and go to the local orphanage."_

_At this, both boys lit up at the new information and Wendy explained._

"_Yes, there is an orphanage in Neverland. It is for the Lost Boys who decide that they want to grow up, but don't want to leave Neverland. They can go to the orphanage and grow up and get jobs…and even become pirates, should they wish it!"_

_John and Michael gasped and she continued._

"_So, as Captain Hook had done once before, he went to town and walked to the local orphanage to see who was there. You see," she explained, "Lost Boys come and go, and they must go somewhere when they are found, and, sometimes, if they become pirates, they even serve on board the Jolly Roger!"_

_John then spoke up._

"_Do we know any of the pirates on board the Jolly Roger?"_

_Wendy nodded. "Yes, you surely do. Remember Tommy? The little one who was always late and missed every adventure?"_

_Michael shook his head. _

"_He was only a little bit bigger than me, but he had to stay behind to watch things for us so that the pirates wouldn't find the tree house." He paused, almost as though he was remembering, but Mr. Darling laughed and shook it off. Of course they were playing one of their make-believe games!_

"_I miss him," said John, as though he, too, were remembering, but then he asked, "So…he's a part of the Jolly Roger crew?"_

_Wendy nodded again._

"_Yes, he most surely is. Thomas, who was once the lost boy, Tommy, is now Back-Handed Tom, because of his great skill with the sword! He never kills, only maims, with a single back-handed swipe of his blade, and for that reason, the fact that he will_ not_ kill, he usually stays behind on the Jolly Roger while the rest of the crew is on their adventures, much as he did when he was simply Tommy, a Lost Boy."_

_She then forged ahead with the story._

"_Captain Hook arrived at the orphanage and, you will be surprised to find out, that many of the children came rushing out to greet him! You see," she explained, her eyes bright with excitement, "He only detested Peter Pan and the Lost Boys because they were so intent on killing him and his crew, but he adored regular children who would eventually grow up, and they adored him as well. They had been told only the best of stories about him by Lady Dane, the lady who ran the orphanage and was a close acquaintance of the barbarous captain."_

_She turned her head towards the window once more, and Mr. Darling watched in fascination as he eyes softened slightly as she spoke._

"_He gave them all sweets that he had bought in town, laughing as they pulled them from his pockets, all of them bright-eyed and eager to see him. However, there was a boy there that caught the captain's eye. He was eight years old with black hair and hazel eyes…his name was James, the same as the captain's. He was thin, but did not seem to want any sweets, hiding behind Lady Dane's skirts the entire time the captain was there. So, our Captain Hook decided that he would give some of his money to Lady Dane and ask her to take special care of the young boy until he was old enough to join his crew."_

_At this, both John and Michael looked perplexed at this turn of the story, but listened anyway, though it was obvious to Mr. Darling, that she was speaking more for her benefit than for theirs._

"_This is an important story because it shows us, even if it doesn't show Peter Pan, that Jas. Hook does have a heart, and that even on the day that he should take for himself, he went out of his way to help someone else in need."_

_She stared off into the distance, her hazel eyes bright._

"_And, several years from now, that boy will become a part of the Jolly Roger crew and be known as simply Jimmy, and his place will always be at the captain's side. For there is only one James in all of Neverland: Jas. Hook."_

_She paused again, and then continued. "And Captain Hook will eventually name this young boy, Jimmy, Captain Jim Rayne, the most honored pirate Captain in all of Neverland, and the end of the fearsome feud between pirates and Lost Boys, including Peter Pan!"_

_At hearing this, Michael and John shared a look and then looked back at Wendy in confusion._

"_But, Wendy," protested John, "You make it sound like the end of all your stories. It isn't, is it?"_

_His tone sounded slightly sad and pleading, but then Wendy looked back at both of them and said, "I'm afraid it is. Captain Hook has been a villain, he's been a gentleman, and now he's fulfilled his role as teacher…the only things that he could ever be in Neverland. Now he must leave Neverland to complete his journey, and those stories, I'm afraid, are not yet written."_

_Michael and John looked at her again, and this time Michael spoke up._

"_What's the rest of his journey then? What hasn't he done?"_

_She smiled._

"_Why, he hasn't been a husband or father, of course. And, as you know, you can be neither of these in Neverland."_

_She gave them an elusive smile, filled with mischief, and they both smiled in return, understanding what she was trying to say to them. There would be more stories, of course, just not of Hook. They would be about the noble and honorable pirate captain, Captain Jim Rayne._

_Mr. Darling smiled to himself and gently closed the door behind him, walking back to his study…_

Remembering this, he pulled out the pages and held them in his hands.

Finally, he knew why he hadn't published them. They weren't finished. Feeling lightened, he walked out of his study and down to the nursery, now Wendy's room, and quietly opened her door. He saw her asleep in her bed and smiled, and then walked over to her writing desk and placed the papers on it.

He then walked out of the room, leaving a silent prayer of thanks to whomever it was that had blessed his daughter.

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**Part 1/?**


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2**

Wendy Darling woke up from a pleasant dream, one that lingered with her like the fine memories of a warm spring day.

As she stretched, her eyes lit upon a stack of papers on her desk, tied together loosely with twine.

Still in her nightdress, she leaned over them, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear, her eyes catching on the words on the front page: _Tales from the Neverland_, by George Darling.

What on earth…? She sat down at her desk and carefully looked through some of the pages, her eyes skimming over the words on each page, a faint smile tugging at the corner of her mouth. She recognized these stories…but why did she recognize them?

And then she remembered. These were the stories her father had told her when she was a little girl, before Michael was even born, when it was just her and John.

She made her way to the last page…

And saw a small note pinned to it.

In her father's neat and elegant handwriting, there was a small message…

"_Wendy, I know how much these stories mean to you, so I give them to you to enjoy and to complete. I know that you have made many stories of Peter and they should be a part of this. Write them down, and continue to make more stories until it is finished. Then do with them what you wish. Love, Father"_

Wendy smiled and felt a faint trickle of wetness on her cheek and realized that a single happy tear had escaped.

She brushed the back of her hand across her face, wiping it away, and bolted from her chair, running down the stairs, not caring that she was still in her nightgown.

She ran into the dining room and over to her father, who was sitting at the head of the table, and wrapped her arms around him in a fiercely tight hug.

"Thank you, thank you, thank you!" she whispered into his ear, while their mother looked on in confusion. He gently patted her back and gave her a light squeeze, returning the gesture and the affection, and then whispered in her ear, "Your welcome, my Wendy."

She pulled back from the hug, gave him a beatific smile, and then ran back up the stairs, eager to start her day.

She changed as quickly as she could, pulling on her petticoats and her dress, and lacing up her boots as fast as her clumsy fingers would let her.

As soon as she finished lacing her boots, she grabbed the parchments from off her desk, along with a fountain pen and a drawing board. She would use the drawing board as an impromptu desk, for she was going outside to write. It was a beautiful day and she was going to enjoy it.

As she sauntered down the stairs, she heard her mother from the other room ask,

"Wendy? Where are you going?"

"Just to the park, mother! I'll be back in time for supper, I promise!"

And with that, she was out the door and into the sunlight. It truly was a beautiful day. She headed down to the park, completely unaware of the men's eyes that followed her. She had inherited her mother's natural grace and elegance, but her father's innocent ignorance.

It was a _darling_ combination on her, but a troublesome one according to her parents as they tried to find suitable suitors for her.

She headed towards the park, but then saw the number of people that were headed there…and she changed her mind.

There was a small patch of greenery surrounded by trees next to a building a few blocks down that practically no one used, and she was certain that it would be empty. All the better for her to write.

Making sure that no one saw her, she slipped down the street and made her way to the hidden park, her feet as light as her heart.

Seeing the spot of green, Wendy smiled. She glanced around once more and slid around the corner of the building, letting out a sigh of contentment when she fell into the dappled shade of the trees, the golden morning sun peeking through the leaves to create a patchwork quilt of sunlight on the ground.

Sitting down at the base of one of the trees, she placed her drawing board on her lap and pulled out the few sheaves of paper that she had brought with her.

She then pulled out the special fountain pen that her father had given her for her birthday the year before and it had been used many times since.

Wendy touched the tip of the pen to her lips, thinking on what story she should first record.

After a few minutes of recollecting and deciding, silently weighing the pros and cons in her mind, she finally decided. Her first adventure with Peter would be best, as it would include a bit of everything in it, as well as the infamous Captain Hook.

She lost herself in her writing, completely unaware of the passing of time.

She felt a shadow fall across her at one point, and she looked up, certain that she would see dark clouds looming in the sky above…but saw something else.

A figure.

Wendy's eyes slowly scanned upwards, taking in the sight of the person before her, who was backlit by the sun, which had moved over the space of several hours. She saw black riding boots, followed by black riding pants, and then a dark red waistcoat over a pristine white shirt…along with a hook for a right hand.

Her breath stopped.

No…she had to be dreaming. She must have fallen asleep while writing and this was a dream, but then she heard a familiar drawl…

"Wendy…Darling…"

She looked up, and hazel eyes met forget-me-not blue ones.

For once in her life, she had no words.

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**Part 2/?**


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter 3**

Wendy's breath was caught in her throat, her heart paused on its previous beat, waiting for the apparition in front of her to disappear so that her heart could continue beating once more…but instead, he extended his left hand towards her and his trademark, silky smile crossed his lips. His goatee was shaven, but she knew it was him; she would know those eyes anywhere.

"Miss Darling…" Her heart beat for a second and then stopped again. "A lady such as yourself should not be on the ground."

His hand remained before her, and she was still reeling in shock.

Seeing her shock, he knelt down and whispered in her ear, "I am very real, Wendy Darling, and I am here to collect you and return you to your home. I believe your father _insisted_ on it."

At this, her eyes widened even further than they had already been open. She was gaping like a fish, until she felt a gloved finger gently press against her chin, closing her mouth, and then she had to hold back a shiver as the finger continued along her jaw and then gently brushed a strand of hair from her face, curling it behind her ear.

Hook leaned in closer.

"Now, will you please take my hand as a lady would, or will I be forced to throw you over my shoulder as I would a burlap sack and drag you back to your home kicking like a child?"

He drew away from her and then stood back up, extending his hand once more.

Incensed at his words and insensitivity, she bristled and moved her pages to the side and at first attempted to get up on her own, but realized that there was no way to do it without flustering herself or making herself look ridiculous. She glared up at him as he stood there, looking almost regal with his arm outstretched…and she begrudgingly put her hand in his.

In one smooth movement, she was suddenly on her feet and she stumbled almost immediately, and she flushed as she found herself pressed against him.

In an elegant arch of his eyebrow, he gave her another smile, this one slightly different than she remembered him ever giving her.

"Why, Miss Wendy, _do_ watch your step."

And with that, he turned and suddenly, with his one good arm, managed to hoist her onto the horse that had been standing at attention behind him the entire time. He then swung himself up behind her and, wrapping his arms around her waist, firmly grasped the reins and moved his hands to walk them down the road, but she protested.

"Sir, if you _must_ take me home, then may I please have my belongings retrieved?"

She wouldn't look him in the eye, nor acknowledge him by his name, as she still did not quite believe what was happening.

In another fluid movement, he was back off the horse. He reached down and grabbed the drawing board and papers and then was back on the horse behind her, sliding the materials over her lap. His lips brushed against her ear once more as he whispered, "Your belongings, Miss Darling."

She said nothing, but felt herself flush in response.

He urged the horse into a canter and she was pressed against his chest, but she resolutely ignored that fact.

They were at her home in moments, where he abruptly pulled up and slid off with ease, and then turned and lifted his left hand and arm to her.

Feeling bold, Wendy stared him dead in the eye…and was surprised to see no lingering smirk or flash of red. Though she loathed to admit it, he was being genuine. And it entirely unnerved her; a villainous Hook was easy to understand and predict, but this kind…well, she didn't know _what_ to expect.

Hesitantly, she took his arm and let herself be helped down off the horse.

She couldn't help but notice that he was clean shaven. It was strange seeing him without his customary goatee, and curly hair, but he looked nice.

His hair was drawn back, pulled into a tight ponytail, showing off his striking profile, one that she was very familiar with.

She felt a faint fluttering in her stomach as she felt his left hand at her lower back, ushering her through her front door after handing off his horse to the young man who worked for her parents in the stables.

She was still wondering in the back of her mind if her father had really sent him…but her question was soon answered when her father walked into the foyer.

"Wendy! There you are…I was worried about you! I was about to call the constable, but then our new neighbor, Mr. Haestings, volunteered to go out and find you. It seems that he had seen you more than once heading to a private park that was apparently not too far from here. Thank you, sir," he added, giving a slight bow to the man.

Wendy looked up at Hook in shock, not quite believing what she was hearing.

"It was nothing, Mr. Darling. I am simply pleased to have retrieved your daughter…" He let his fingers linger on her waist a moment, and then turned his head and gave her another one of his trademark smiles. "…and to have made her acquaintance as well."

Mr. Darling saw the approving look in the man's eyes and then he saw…no, it couldn't be. Was his Wendy…blushing?

Wendy was suddenly surprised when her father said, "Would care to join us this evening for supper? We have more than enough, and it seems the least I could do."

She tensed beneath Hook's hand, but her tension eased when he responded.

"I wish I could accept the invitation, but I cannot tonight as I have a previous engagement…" She let out a sigh of relief. Too soon, it seemed, as he then said, "…Perhaps tomorrow evening instead? My schedule is free then, and then I will be able to meet your entire family _properly_."

She could hear the intonation in his last word, even if her father couldn't, and she had to withhold the urge to simply stomp up the stairs to her a room like a child.

Instead, she took a deep breath and quickly interjected.

"Father, if it is alright, may I please be excused to go freshen up for supper? I have been outside all day, you see, and I should change."

Mr. Darling nodded, watching intently as Mr. Haestings' eyes followed Wendy as she went up the stairs, and he smiled to himself.

Had this been mere chance, or had his daughter found a possible suitor?

He turned back to Mr. Haestings and gave him a parting smile.

"I am very pleased to have made your acquaintance, Mr. Haestings…may I show you out?" The man nodded, and George was silently proud of himself for not embarrassing himself in front of their new neighbor and that he had not said anything uncouth or inappropriate.

Considering the man had no right hand, he was _very_ proud of himself for maintain propriety.

He could not wait to tell Mary the good news.

He had found a new suitor for Wendy.

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**Part 3/?**


End file.
